Rewriting History
by NobodiestoSomebodies
Summary: In the Ministry of Magic, their is a veil that is used on criminals sentenced to death. After Sirus is killed, Harry makes a hasty, grief driven descison, one which will change the war against darkness forever, by offering a middle side. rating may change
1. Father's Son

**Rewriting History**

Featuring Harry Potter and Louis Broker

Written by Atainne Warren

Harry Potter is property of J.K. Rowling.

Louis Broker is property of Atai.

Part one: Prelude

Entry one: Father's Son

- - - -

"Nice one James!" Sirus had said. He had called Harry by his father's name, after a curse Harry had nailed upon Lucius Malfoy perfectly. The moment after Sirus had said it, Harry and Lucius' eyes had met. In that heartbeat exchange, there was just a breath of understanding. Lucius could read straight through the boy's emotions, feelings and every expression Harry had ever made. Everything laid bare for the dark blond.

Then Sirus cursed Lucius.

_Choices made._

_Promises broken._

Bellatrix Lestrange skittered to a halt and took in the scene for one sharp moment. Her large dark eyes fell upon the act playing out near the stone veil. Lucius sneered up at her cousin, who held his wand at the said blond's throat and taunted him, almost like they were back in school. Disgusting. Bringing her wand up, she spoke the curse instantly. It didn't cross her mind of what effect it would, or might have, she just acted on pure instinct. Something she'd always done, and something she wasn't proud of all the time.

"Avada Kedvada!"

_Alliances made._

_Families broken._

Harry watched with sick fascination as the green streak of the spell came in like lightning, and dead hit Sirus in the back. Direct blow to the heart. Bellatrix was a good witch, light or dark, that fact did not change. Right or wrong. Another fact that sunk in at that moment, in realizing that, was that Harry's godfather Sirus... was fading away into the veil. Battle noises faded away to silence. As he cried out, Harry could no longer hear his own voice, let alone the voice of his friend and ex-teacher Remus Lupin. Heart aching, the boy-who-lived felt the sharp tang of numbness seep into his suddenly cold skin.

Sirus Black was dead.

_Let go._

_Let live._

Bellatrix took in a sharp breath. Spell coming in for contact, reason and family ties sped up and took hold of her. So much so, she almost screamed out for him. Alliance and shock froze the words in her throat as the spell caught him in the back, spun him around and his balance slipped. Her cousin fell into the veil. If the curse had not killed him, then he was surely dead now, the veil would make sure of that. Bellatrix turned to flee, numb, afraid and confused she slipped into the shadows with a mad cackle that held a trickle of cold hysteria. Behind her, the boy-who-lived gave a cry and pursued her. He followed her through the shadows, and all to give a grief roughened shout.

"Crucio!"

_He who looses so much,_

_must be prepared to loose more._

Harry came to a shuddering halt. The curse hadn't done much in the power department, instead it seemed to have given his target a slight jolt. Her lips parted and exhaled in a hysteric giggle. She seemed out of breath, and enjoying every tremor that ran along her skin as she tittered to herself madly. Harry watched with the same sick fascination he'd given Sirus' death before the same numbness bubbled to the surface and he leveled his wand at her again.

She pouted.

_If we are to survive,_

_a veil of shadows must descend._

White mist flowed through the air, Voldemort appeared followed soon by Dumbledore. Bellatrix fled the scene via floo and the rest was history, until a month or so after Sirus's death.

_And we who suffer little_

_must share his pain._


	2. The Reason

Part one: Prelude

Entry two: The Reason

- - - -

Recap

- - - -

Choices made.

Promises broken.

Alliances made.

Families broken.

Let go.

Let live.

He who looses so much,

must be prepared to loose more.

If we are to survive,

a veil of shadows must descend.

And we who suffer little

must share his pain.

- - - -

End Recap

- - - -

Dipping his black ink quill, Harry Potter pulled out a piece of parchment paper and held his quill poised, thinking. How to start? He could recount the whole thing, and give his reason there, hidden within the retelling of how this came to be. Or, he could be frank. Perhaps he should give a mysterious note, giving little clues and lead them on, just for fun. Hmm. Bringing down the quill, Harry began.

_One month previous today, my beloved godfather Sirus Black died. To the general populace, he was a psychopathy murder. Not much evidence defended him, but perhaps my word, long after he's really gone, will convince the rest of us, that Sirus Black was no murderer. He was a loving and wronged person._

_Peter Pettigrew was the real murderer. He was an accomplice of Tom Marvelo Riddle, or as many and most will know him as; Voldemort, the dark lord. Faking his own death, leaving only a finger, Peter escaped by way of his animagius form; a rat. Later, he was discovered to be the pet of the unsuspecting Ronald Weasley. However, he escaped death and fled back to his master._

_Back to one month prior. My godfather was the only real family I had left. Oh, yes. The Dursleys. I would not call them family, as my first thirteen years were spent living on dinner scraps, doing every chore thought imaginable, living in a closet the size of my arms outstretched in each direction and receiving beating punishments when I so as spoke without being spoken to. My life was truly that of a "hero". Malnourishment is just what a growing baby needs._

_I am not looking for pity, believe me. I am not looking for a way out from my problems, sympathy or any more fame. My words are a statement of truth. And because of these words, I find that even though I have many friends, their words have become just a pillar of support to keep the weight of my life from crumbling out from under me. Some people are selfish. Some people are spoiled. Some people can be saved. I am not selfish, that I know of, and I was most certainly not spoiled. I also believe I am past saving._

_If this action is taken as selfish, then perhaps I truly am. My apologies, I just felt someone should know the truth. If anyone at all, it be those I leave behind._

Harry hesitated briefly, before setting it aside to dry and grabbing a fresh paper. This one he thought longer about. Apologies meant nothing to the dead, and sometimes they meant less to the living.

_To my friends; all of Gryfindor, many of Hufflepuff and a few in Ravencalw: My apology is public and for you as well as the rest of the world._

_To my friends Hermione Granger, Ginny Weasley, Ronald Weasley and Gryfindor whom I was closer with: You all tried your best to save me and I am forever in your debt. My loss is not one to be mourned. Know I love each and every one of you for how you've helped me, doubted me, stood by me and been yourselves for me through each and every year. My sacrifice is selfish and you should not blame yourselves._

_To Dumbledore and the teachers: You all taught wonderfully, and I was honored to be your student. Even you, Professor Snape._

_To the one and only Draco Malfoy: You were the best archenemy anyone could ever be. Though you may not know it, you were there for me more than anyone else. Every insult you threw only soldified __whatever was my determination at any time. Searing gray eyes brought back my spirit and you were someone I strived to better myself with, by. You were an idol I secretly wanted to be, in just a little sense. You were always so self-sure, so confident. I envied you. Your money, your popularity, somewhat truer than mine, and your friendship was something I only turned down because you insulted the first friend I'd ever made in my life. Over again, I'd accept it. Believe me. I'm sorry I couldn't save you, like I wish I could have. You, more than anyone, please forgive me._

_And, to everyone: Divide my things among yourselves as you see fit, except for Hedwig. She's my best friend and she deserves to go to the one person important enough in retrospect. Draco Malfoy, take good care of my owl, won't you? You slimy git, she's a bit temperamental, just like you._

"That's good enough." Harry muttered. "I've gotten everyone of importance, now I just need to..." Looking to the side, Harry unlatched Hedwig's cage and blew gently on the letters. Drying them. Once they were safe to roll up the boy-who-lived did so, and tied them neatly. Harry's deep green eyes met Hedwig's.

"Bring this to Dumbledore sometime tomorrow afternoon would you?"

A soft hoot.

"Thanks girl, I'll miss you." Running his hand through Hedwig's white feathers affectionately, Harry gave a ghost of a smile. "I'll miss you a lot."

Hedwig hooted again and lifted her wings gracefully. Out the window she flew, like the ghost of any emotion or love Harry might have left in his empty, glass heart. Off she went. To deliver the letters and now, off Harry went to follow in the footsteps of his most influential person. Sirus Black.


End file.
